Dream's Shadow

Summary:
This is my take on the over- and usually poorly- done plot. Edward leaves Bella again. She is changed and they meet again in the future. There will be a big twist! Requested by Iris. Banner by Iris!

Notes:
Try it! I know stories like this usually stink, but I thought I'd give it a try. I own nothing. Stephenie Meyer owns all.

Alice wouldn’t let us get away with the traditional vows. She insisted on creativity. I thought it was sort of corny, but I got to hear Edward say he loved me, so I was all right with it.

I’m actually not all that caught up with what I say or what I wear or what the flowers look like. After all, I’m just trying to get my forever to start. I can do it Alice’s way.

The rest of the ceremony jumbles together, the pastor’s words becoming totally meaningless. I just listen, listen to the sound of the deep voice and the ancient words.

There are no humans here. Our estranged cousins, the Denali clan, are here in a gesture of reassurance, and the Volturi made an appearance. Other than that, it’s just our family.

I touch each mind gently, just probing. Rosalie, finally accepting my choice. Alice, excited beyond belief. Emmett, still mad he can’t make me blush at the altar. Jasper, relieved he won’t ruin this ceremony by leaping for my throat. Aro, voyeuristically delighted with this rarest of endings. Caius, bitter that he didn’t get his war. Marcus, bitter that he didn’t get his wife. Felix, marveling at how good my butt looks in this wedding dress—I fight the disgust off my face. Tanya, a tiny bit jealous. Irina, still pained. Kate, guilty, but holding hands with a dark, tall vampire I haven’t seen before. His mind is full of questions. Carmen, honestly happy for me. Eleazer, quiet as usual. Carlisle, finally at peace. Esme, happy for her son.

Edward, radiant with joy.

“You may kiss the bride.”

The pastor is the only human there, and though some of the guests must grit their teeth at the smell, I want my family watching as I lean in and pressed my lips to Edward’s.

It is a chaste kiss, a quiet kiss, and I can hear Aro sigh aloud at the sheer romance of it.

Edward’s hand tangles in mine, and “man and wife,” the pastor says, “man and wife,” echoes in my ears, “man and wife,” and I smile.

I am his. His wife, his love, his forever.

He turns from me. We’re still hand in hand as we are mobbed by the embraces of our family, white petals in the sky, white skin touching mine, white silk on the floor.